


Apple Seed

by chisakii_s



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Tragedy, Basically The Whole Plot of SnK, But Still Deciding On That, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Original Character(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potential Romance, but also please dont come for my neck if its awful, i promise im gonna try and do my best with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chisakii_s/pseuds/chisakii_s
Summary: For the tragedy of a young girl, whose heart hangs out of her chest from blue veins and red arteries, the world won't pause.
Kudos: 1





	1. 00| in a world where little girls dream

Li Meixiang’s laugh rang out like a chiming melody as she ran away from her older sister, her little toddler feet making heavy pitter-patter noises across the paved walkway. Not too far behind her was one Li Yiran, her dark eyes alight with mirth and childish glee as she pretended to growl with her hands stretched out in front of her in grabbing motions. “I’m coming to eat you, Meixiang!” Threatening in a noise caught between a snarl and cheerful laughter, she bared her teeth and made long, exaggerated footfalls that were meant to mimic how she thought a titan would move. Though she wasn’t sure if she was doing it justice since she’d never seen one, it seemed to do the job perfectly, because her little sister squealed even louder and ran as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.

“Giant! Giant!” Meixiang, between giggles and laughter, cried out in tones and syllables of a language uncommon within Shiganshina as she hurriedly tried to escape the approaching ‘monster.’ However, in her excitement, the little girl stumbled over a pebble stone, and her squeals of joy turned to a single exclamation of shock and fright as she fell down on all fours, skin cutting against jagged rocks and drawing red lines across pale skin. Immediate in her reaction, Yiran rushed to pick her little sister up from her fall, stretched her hands out to lift her off the ground with a grunt just in time for her to start crying loudly. The older girl, with practiced expertise, used a hand to wipe the coming tears, body bouncing with Meixiang resting in her other arm.

“Where does it hurt?” She cooed lightly, couldn’t help the grimace that formed on her lips as she glanced down at scraped knees. Scabs would form within the next few days, she bemused, though brushed an open palm comfortingly against her sister’s chubby cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to one. “Let’s go home and clean this up, hm?” she suggested, switching to the same Shuiguolian language that Meixiang had been crying out in so excitedly, if only for the benefit that she would at least feel comforted by the familiarity of tonal words spoken within their family. A pout formed on the younger girl’s face, though she wasn’t crying anymore, and simply nodded her head as Yiran turned around to begin the journey back to their home.

A sort of peacefulness hung over Shiganshina district on that warm, Spring afternoon, light breezes fluttering her skirt as she passed through gathering crowds, women with baskets full of fresh produce and men with watered down beer on their breaths. Little children younger than Yiran herself ran after one another, calling out carefree ‘you’re it—’s and ‘the last one to get to the spot’s gonna have to stick their shoe in cow poop—’s that had their friends hurrying to catch up. The marketplace, as was typical for a Saturday afternoon, bustled and overflowed with life, and while voices rang high in chatter and laughter, the world was made to appear as if all were right in it; as if there was no looming threat, no dark shadow that could ever threaten to pull the people from peace.

And yet, the entire market held its breath at the toll of the bell. All sounds of cheeky flirtations and passing gossip drew to a halt, and soon enough, the sounds of wagons and horse hooves could be heard against the rock pavement. Something heavy and suffocating replaced the cheer of mingling wives and gambling husbands, tinging the air with a sourness and disparity that clung to the green cloaks of bleeding men. The gate shuttered closed, a loud and ringing noise that drove through the hearts of every man, woman and child as the crowd parted down the middle, people moving to the side as the horses dragged in the men who danced so carelessly with death.

Here was the Scout Regimen, smelling of blood and rot, with hollowed eyes on haunted faces.

By now, Meixiang had stopped crying entirely and stayed docile in Yiran’s hold, allowing the older girl to find a place close to the front where she could see the returning squadron. Around her, everything seemed to have gone silent so that the click-clack of the horses, the squeaking of the wagons would be the only thing heard among them. Every breath was drawn, every smile wiped clean, and even Meixiang didn’t dare make a noise; the men and women who returned seemed to bring along with them the death that asphyxiated the world outside Wall Maria, left nothing in its wake save for the giant devils who were said took man's face. Yiran watched, with guarded yet curious eyes, the faces of the people who came back, saw the handful that were missing arms and legs; an eye, an ear; the carts filled so high that the white sheets blotched with old blood seemed about ready to flutter away with the next coming wind, to reveal just how large the piles of bodies that they were hiding were. Of those that had, not a single person raised their eyes, kept them glued to their feet or to the backs of their horses; even then, the glaring abyss that swallowed their gazes was not something lost on the girl of ten. Gaping pits of a cold, destitute something that was not quite emptiness, a void overflowing with a darkness that followed death, it stared back at her, reaching black tendrils out to wrap around her neck and pull her within its depths. What, she wondered somewhere inside that dark fog, through the haze of despair that took her breath away, was so worth throwing oneself into the jaws of hell; to gaze into eternal damnation, that these men and women rode on the backs of their horses, wings fluttering on an invisible wind and throats torn raw from their shouts for freedom.

She drew the breath that she’d neglected to take, as if she was suddenly pulled out from that cold, cold place and up to the surface when a woman pushed through the crowd from the other side, a frail old lady with greying hair who called out a name. “Moses, Moses!” She looked all over, quivering eyes trailing over defeated faces, and with each one she passed over, Yiran could see her becoming more desperate. “Where’s my Moses? My son?” The woman pleaded with a wavering tone, lips drawn back in what was a hopeful smile that quickly withered away with every unfamiliar face she passed over. “He should be with you all, he—” Yiran swallowed hard, the reaction unbridled as she anxiously bit the inside of her cheek, “He said he was coming back to me?”

The commander was a tall man, brooding and like a tower, but his presence before the old woman seemed so shrunken, as if he would sink into himself and crumble at any given moment. Golden eyes were dim in the sunlight, lacking the lustre and vigour with which they had departed only three days ago. Before them was not the man who cried out “For Humanity—” at Maria’s gate, but the shadow of one who had lost hope for a better future, one that considered that, maybe, there was nothing beyond the Walls but despair and desolation.

His cries, just like they had been on the day of departure, were thunderous, rang through the otherwise quiet marketplace, thrummed in her chest like a second heartbeat. Here, under the burning sun and the disdainful eyes, his own voice rang high with the woman’s scream, both of them collapsed to their knees as Moses’ purple arm hung clutched tightly in her grip, her shoulders held so that she could look into this shameful commander’s face. “It’s my fault he’s dead—” came from his lips in hoarse shouts, his voice cracking in places where the guilt wrapped its hand around his heart and squeezed tight enough to stop his breath. “I lead them to their deaths and we have nothing to show for it!”

In that moment, it was as if the world herself stopped spinning, observed with odium as this reproachful servant pleaded with her for forgiveness. _‘Forgive me for all those lives I ended,’_ he would beg, neck wound tight in the hands of the dead men who walked in his shadow, squeezing and clawing until the phantom sensation would leave him gasping for air. _‘Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me—’_ but he knew that there would be no mercy to be found for a devil like him, that he would never be able to atone for the deaths of his soldiers. Since the day he took the position of commander, he had already claimed for himself a special place in hell, and he was too far gone to ever have a chance at redemption.

There is no rest for the wicked, he learned that lesson quickly.

It was only after the last of the green cloaks disappeared well behind the crowd when Yiran finally let her breath go, a heavy exhale that staggered from her lips as her heart began beating again. She blinked her eyes rapidly, shook her head to clear out the fog that had begun to settle in her mind, to break away from the trance she seemed to fall into. As she did, the rest of the people began to move as well, though in place of the amiable smiles and laughter that rang through the market before, there were frowns and murmurs from the tax-paying public, shared dissatisfaction against the band of fools who insisted on searching for what lay beyond the Walls. “Always good to see what my money’s being wasted on,” one man grumbled to another, contempt lacing his words as he ran a hand through brown hair. His companion agreed, though Yiran didn’t hang around to hear their response as she worked her way through the dispersing groups. The heavy atmosphere surrounding her was beginning to make her head feel clogged, oppressive in a way that made her feel as if she had her head under water the longer she stayed.

An unintelligible gurgle from Meixiang did well to quell the emotions rising up in Yiran’s chest as she found herself within the more residential parts of the outlier district, the noise sounding close to her ear while her younger sister busied herself with gently pulling at strands of black hair. A smile found its way to her lips, a familiar feeling of fondness replacing what ugly sentiments settled on her tongue as she hoisted the two-year-old toddler from one hip to the other. Absentmindedly, she mused at just how much the little child who she used to lift up with ease, had grown; it felt as if she had suddenly gone through a growth spurt over the past year, leaving behind the tiny baby in place for a rapidly growing girl. The thought of it made her feel nostalgic. “You must be ready for lunch now, huh?” She mused, meeting Meixiang’s gaze, laughed when she nodded eagerly. “I’ll look after something for you when we get inside.”

No sooner than she said so had their house finally come into view, not dissimilar to the ones surrounding it and identifiable by the weathered dreamcatcher that hung on their front door. Blue feathers were faded to an almost white, and the silver coating had lost its shine, to a dull rust, deep red against an earthen brown. The door swung open under her palm, the ornament chiming softly as Yiran let herself in. Small dust particles fluttered about in a familiar dance, the sun’s rays lighting up the small dining room for them as they moved around, carefree and elegant in their performance. The house smelt strongly of soup broth, the aroma floating softly on its way to the doorway. Ah, that’s odd, Yiran contemplated, brows drawn together as a puzzled frown pulled at her lips. She hadn’t cooked before she took out with Meixiang, and even if she had, she didn’t remember having any of the mushrooms she would have needed for the broth.

It took her by surprise when Meixiang hopped out of her hold, inspiring a quick second of fear in poor Yiran as she worried that she would hurt herself yet again. Despite her worries, the child stomped on with loud footsteps, wooden floors creaking under her little toddler feet as she giggled and squealed happily.

“Mama! Mama!”

There was a responding laugh from around the corner as Meixiang disappeared behind it. No sooner had she gone, Yiran heard her cry out again as a woman’s cheerful voice sounded out in Shuiguolian tongue.

“My baby girl!” Mirth and joy sounded true in Li Tao’s voice as she held her younger daughter to her chest, took delight in the cheerful bubbles of laughter that rose from the tiny body. Yiran felt her own lips stretching with a smile at the sight of her mother standing in their kitchen, though she held off on throwing herself at the woman who was still dressed in her khaki pants and dress shirt. Instead, she pulled her hands together behind her back and allowed her fingers to find purchase in the folds of her red skirt. She took to rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet to keep herself from pouncing.

“When did you get back?”

With her ever present smile and endearing expression, Tao looked to her older daughter. “About an hour ago,” she answered as she let Meixiang down from her arms to set her on top of the wooden table, checking the wounds on her knees when the child poutingly pointed at them. “Oddly enough, we haven’t been seeing too much traffic in the forests these past few weeks, so the big shots decided to cut back on our hours until activity picks up again.”

  
That puzzled Yiran: the Forest of Giant Trees was always most popular in the spring time, flourishing with wildlife and nature as the winter passed away and animals began to venture out from their hiding places. The forest was Shiganshina’s main tourist attraction, a blessing that it grew close enough to the district for the officers to take advantage of their impossible heights and advertise them as a popular tour hut. Her mother worked as a tour guide there, often left early in the mornings and returned well into the evenings. It was worse during the spring and autumn seasons when the forest began changing itself to face the oncoming weather: as life returned to the branches in the warmer months before their leaves would scatter across the forest floor in picturesque shades of browns and oranges. During those days, Tao would be gone for days at a time, leaving Yiran to take care of her younger sister by herself. This spring, it seemed, would be different.

  
The woman was lean and of average height, her hair pulled behind her neck in a low ponytail and a fringe that hung across her brow, cut sharply to frame a youthful face. Obsidian eyes shined deeply in the dining room’s light as she turned to meet Yiran’s gaze to just her thumb out to somewhere behind her. “Could you go get the ointment from the bedroom and put some on Mei’s cut, please dear?” She asked sweetly, a grunt coming from her lips as she straightened her back. Briefly, her lips pursed and brows furrowed, making a muted show of the exhaustion that must have been pressing down on her body. “After that, come help me in the kitchen — I picked up some stuff for chicken mushroom soup.”

  
At that, Yiran’s face lit up, a grin threatening to spread across her lips as she mock saluted — “On it, Ma’am—” before she hurried past the table and to the bedroom. Upon crossing the threshold, she made a beeline for the dresser, spent a few seconds glancing between different bottles of cream before she finally found the little brown jar, the words “cut ointment” written on top of the cover in the common tongue. As she reached out for it, her eyes trailed to their shared bed where a little grey blanket lay strewn atop the thin spread. Meixiang’s favourite blanket was time worn and dirty, brown spots were obvious even from this distance. Yiran grumbled to herself, the expression without malice as she wondered just when the sneaking little girl found time to dig her most prized possession up from the pile of dirty linen and laundry. With a huff, she retrieved the blanket and turned to the hamper in the corner of the room, took great care in hiding the tiny thing beneath the pile of sheets that needed to be washed soon. Very soon, Yiran bemused, because it was only a matter of time before Meixiang would be looking to recover her blanket once more.

  
She made quick time on dressing her little sister’s scratches, planting a healing kiss on each of her cheeks before she washed her hands off and stationed herself by her mother’s side. Immediately, she was made busy with slicing up the ingredients that Tao hadn’t yet done, hands moving just a bit slower than she would have liked them to as she tossed what was finished into the broth. Her mother, between their hustling, recounted stories about the tourists and her colleagues from work, laughed at silly Sheenian travellers who came dressed in oversized coats and gasped in horror for the poor boy who somehow got stuck way up on one of the highest branches— “We had to wait for one of the Garrisons to come take him down with his ODM gear!” Tao chuckled, hands busy with chopping pieces of the chicken to fry before they would join the broth. Somewhere behind them, Meixiang was making herself busy with running around the dining table; no matter that she had only just had her knees dressed up, she was back to whisper-shouting “Giants, giants—” in her inside voice.

  
“The commissioner’s thinking of having employees train to use ODM after that incident,” Tao heaved a sigh, gaze thoughtful as she lifted her attention away from her task to look out at something outside their window. Yiran winced at the idea, pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she said,

  
“But isn’t training for that supposed to be dangerous?”

  
The woman glanced towards her daughter, and it was now that Yiran could see the lines beginning to form on Tao’s face, noticed how her body leaned ever so slightly against the countertop. She hummed in affirmation as she returned her attention to the poultry on the cutting board, “It is, but I think they’re worried that the next time something like this happens, we might not be lucky enough to wait for help to arrive.”

  
It wasn’t a baseless concern, Yiran noted, ignoring the question of how the child would have gotten up one of those trees in the first place. Still, she didn’t feel easy about the training that her mother would have to undergo. She'd heard more than enough horror stories of soldiers in training who lost their lives, due to some malfunction with their gear or from falling to their deaths. “Of course it’s just a precautionary measure,” Tao added belatedly, as if she could hear her daughter’s thoughts, “so I imagine it’ll only be a handful of us that will actually need to do it.”

  
Yiran didn’t add anything to that, didn’t speak out on the relief that Tao’s words brought her and instead kept her hands busy with chopping vegetables to add to the broth and allowing a not quite silence settle over them that was only disturbed by their work in the kitchen and Meixiang’s playing. Softly, she began to hum the tune of a lullaby that Tao had taught her, the melody of it soothing and familiar in its sad tale as she went through the motions of bringing her knife down on the cutting board.

  
“Shan gui,” Tao’s voice was warm and wistful as she recalled the melody’s name, a sigh falling between her words and her smile curled into a melancholic expression. Her gaze found that of her older daughter’s, and, for the second time that day, Yiran could see clearly the weariness that sapped the woman of her youthfulness. It was during those moments when it would seem as if the woman bore the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, as if she was fighting against an invisible force that no one else could see; it dragged her down and chipped away at her spirit, and she would always be left looking a bit smaller than she really was.

  
The girl took a breath, hesitant in her next words as they fell from her lips in a whisper:

  
“Do you… miss home?”

  
Onyx eyes wavered for a split second, exposing the lake of raw feelings that hid behind their dark colour before Tao shook her head once to recover. “A little,” was her truthful answer as she finally cut the last piece of the chicken. The resounding sound of the knife chopping down against the wooden cutting board was nearly deafening. With pursed lips, she reached beneath one of the counters, coming back with a frying pot and a bottle of olive oil, one that thankfully lasted them for a long time since she bought it over half a year ago. (“It’s too expensive to waste it all,” she had said with a firm tone. Yiran didn’t disagree.) “I don’t regret leaving though.”

  
Meixiang’s incoherent gurgles seemed so loud within those next few seconds, ringing out like church bells in an empty courtyard that served to drive Tao’s resolve home. The woman turned her eyes upon her little girl and Yiran followed after a moment's grace, having watched her expression simmer out of the stress lines and markings. No longer was her smile bitter and hurting, but instead became brilliant with something so overwhelming that it felt as if it would fill Yiran’s chest up and spill over. It was the same one that she had worn on her face, two years ago, when they ran away from that little village by the lake. Hopeful and promising, telling of a young woman’s deepest prayers.  
“That night when I took you and Meixiang,” Tao was almost whispering, as if she feared that an eavesdropping wall would capture her words and scatter them to the winds, “I was so scared that I wouldn’t make it far with you two… I was scared that they would catch us and bring you right back to your father—” The words caught in her throat, threatened to choke her; she took a deep, gasping breath, “But when I thought of you, of how you’d have to grow up only to bear someone’s children before you were ready— I didn’t want that life for you… I didn’t want you to have to turn into a slave for your husband and his family—”

  
“I know, mama,” Yiran said, her voice just as hushed as she reached out her hand to hold her mother’s, “I know.” When the woman’s eyes met hers, she smiled softly, hoping that it would show everything her heart felt. Although she had only been eight years old at the time, Yiran was old enough to remember what life had been like in their lake village. The life they left behind, one where little girls and women were hardly any more than servants and child-bearers; where they were sold off at a young age to be an older man’s wife; where they would have no value unless they gave their husbands a son, and would be cast aside in favour of a second wife or a concubine if they remained unsuccessful… Yiran had grown seeing the way that her mother was treated in the village, shunned and disgraced especially after Meixiang was born. Women who had their little boys suckling on milk, others who were big enough to be running around freely, they all turned her into an outcast, scorned her as if she was cursed; and truly, they must have believed it. After all, how could any woman be so unlucky to give birth to two daughters and not a single boy?

  
She believed that the tipping point must have been the day when Yiran first flowered and her grandparents began to talk about finding her a husband. It hadn’t even been more than a day before they started planning, readying themselves to find a rich man who was looking for a wife; she remembered feeling terrified, on the verge of tears as her mother held her tightly and talks of her marriage spread about in a horrid kind of excitement. A week later, they ran away in the dead of the night; Tao pulled both of her daughters on a wagon, didn’t stop until she reached the outlier district of Shiganshina two days later.

  
Here in their kitchen, Yiran no longer needed to marry a man who would treat her as nothing more than a slave. Here in Shiganshina, her mother didn’t need to suffer because of her failure to have a son. They could choose their future, wouldn’t need to abide by cruel customs and live only to serve their husbands and their would-be families.  
Here, they had the chance to be free.

  
Tao was on the verge of tears as she hastily wrapped her hands around her older daughter’s body, her grip full and encompassing despite how awkwardly she held her with her messy hands. “I love the both of you,” she said. Her voice broke off in places, overflowed with so much emotion that it could have choked her. “So, so much… I only want the best for the both of you, you know that right?”

  
It was all Yiran could do to nod, fighting back her own tears as she brought her hands around the woman’s figure. “I know.”

  
There was the sound of padding feet before they both felt Meixiang throwing herself at their legs, a delightful giggle sounded from her as she looked up at them with the biggest smile. “Jiejie, mama! I love you!” She squealed as Yiran bent to lift her up, wasted no time in slapping two chubby hands across her older sister's cheeks with innocent laughter tumbling out of her tiny self and straight into Yiran's swelling heart.

  
“Oh!” Tao cried after a moment had passed, lifting a finger as if she had a lightbulb moment. With a widening smile, she turned to give Yiran her side, tutted her hip out in an awkward-looking gesture. “Reach into my back pocket — I brought something for you!”

  
Curious, Yiran lowered her sister to wash her hands in the sink, then once her hands were dry, did as Tao had told her. When she pulled back her palms, she held in them three silver coins. Yiran’s eyes widened as she looked back up at Tao’s smiling face. “Mama, isn’t this too much??”

  
The woman made a ‘psh!’ noise, using a hand to fan away the girl’s concern. “We’re not supposed to take tips, but a nice old tourist gave me this before she left,” she nodded to the coins in Yiran’s hands. “Go out into town for a bit, I’ll handle the rest of the food.”

  
As if sensing her growing uncertainty and reluctance, Tao’s smile turned gentle, eyes warm with reassurance as she said, “Seriously, don’t worry about it so much. Think of it as a small allowance?”

  
Yiran sighed, relenting under her mother’s insistence and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to return the money without a fight. “Thanks mama,” she chuckled wearily and retired from a fruitless battle, at which Tao’s face immediately lit up in youthful triumph.

  
“Leave Meixiang here,” she said before Yiran could turn to get her sister. When she began to ask if she was certain, the woman eagerly nodded, making ‘shoo’ motions with her hands as if to hurry the girl out of the house. “Yeah, yeah it’s fine! Go enjoy some time alone for a bit!”

  
Sighing once more at the woman’s insistence (truly, sighing was all she seemed to be able to do these days), Yiran only had a few seconds to give Meixiang a parting kiss on her forehead before Tao began to shoo her out of the house again. “I’ll try to bring something back for you two!” She promised once she stood outside the door, laughing lightly at her mother’s responding “Forget that, just spend it on yourself!”

  
The sun had already begun to fall behind the horizon when she returned to the market, the dying light scattering across the sky in bright oranges and deep purples in the picture of an ancient oil painting. Whatever dark sentiments that had settled over the district’s people earlier in the day seemed to have been swept up by the season’s wind, and what was left behind was a day’s-hard-work type of exhaustion as people packed up their stalls and waved away at the last of their customers. Yiran, bemoaning the fact that Tao had made her go out at such an odd time when most stall owners would be returning to their homes, walked aimlessly by the different vendors, eyes quickly scanning over the few who remained and the items they sold. For Heaven’s sake, she sighed through her nose, she didn’t even know what to buy. How was she meant to spend three entire silver coins? More importantly, what kind of tourist walked around with that kind of money, only to turn around and give it as a generous tip to their tour guide? A cross between astonished and incredibly amused, Yiran could only imagine just how rich a person would have to be to not worry about the kind of money they handed out so carelessly.

  
Grumbling, she messed around with the coins in one palm, slowed her pace until she came to a complete stop in the almost deserted marketplace. Sounds of easy laughter and satisfied exhales fell around her in ambience, painting Shiganshina district as a peaceful picture under the darkening sky. In a couple more hours, after the pleasant cheers and smiles have been shared over a nice, warm dinner, patrons and soldiers would gather in crowds by taverns and alcohol houses to laugh with each other in careless spirit, flirt freely with the serving women and complain about their troubles. It was the easy, familiar pattern that let the people breath so calmly, that allowed them to kick their legs back and bask in the serenity of mundane life.

“Ay, young lass!”

There was a voice that called out somewhere behind her, deep and a bit throaty that had her turning to look in the direction it came from. What she found was a slightly overweight man who grinned behind a large beard, the smile broadening when her eyes met his. Eagerly, he beckoned her over with a meaty hand, and when Yiran finally came to stand before his stall, she was able to see the items he had scattered across the blue tarpaulin sheet. Fine jewellery and stones of different colours; ruby reds and deep lake blues, silver rings and more ornaments than she could ever imagine being in one place. “Yah looking to buy somethin’ nice?” The vendor proposed with his wide smile, didn’t even give the girl a chance to respond as he held his hand out to his collection, “Yah ain’t gonna find any lower prices ‘roun here for these fine things, I tell yah! A real easy deal I’ll make with yah so long as yeh got the money on yeh!”

  
Giving the man a polite smile whilst trying her best not to be overwhelmed by his enthusiasm, Yiran took some time to consider the array of glittering rocks and jewels out on display. The colour variation was almost dizzying, even under the dimming light of sundown, and the girl felt her head swirl a bit from all the different shades of greens and yellows. It was a near relief when her eyes fell over to one silver necklace, the thin chain looped through a small, silver band. Compared to everything else the man was selling, it was almost so ridiculously plain that Yiran wasn’t sure how she didn’t spot it sooner. “How much is this one?” Fighting back a wince at her accent, she pointed out the silver necklace, followed the man’s hazel gaze as he found the jewel in question.

  
“Ah, that one’s got a twin,” he hummed, thoughtful before he turned around to a wooden crate behind him to rummage around in for a few seconds, during which Yiran respectfully looked away from his glaring bald spot. When he turned around, there was another silver necklace hanging from between his fingers, similar to the first with a slender, silver ring on its chain. “How much do yah have?” He asked instead of naming a price, at which Yiran took a moment of pause before reaching into her skirt’s pocket to pull one single coin. Hoping (and further doubting) that the man would ask for more, she maintained a façade of innocence when the man’s eyes widened and his mouth fell slack.

  
“Is this enough?” Heavens, she really needed to improve her use of the common tongue; she inwardly bemoaned the fact that, although not as thick as it had been two years ago, her accent still persisted in the way that the words fell from her lips. Certain combinations felt uncomfortable, entirely wrong in their pronunciation as her lips curled around new vowels and syllables. No doubt she would need a longer time to feel even the slightest bit confident in her speech.

  
“Blimey, where’d yeh get that kind of money from, lass?” The vendor appraised, taking the lone silver coin from her fingers and turning it over a few times in his own hand, “’s not often yah come cross one o’ these here in the district.” Once he was satisfied that it wasn’t some type of counterfeit, he pocketed the money before happily handing over the pair of necklaces. Yiran thanked him politely as she searched for and located the clasps on each, lifted her hands to close them around her neck. A wince slipped from her as the second one snagged painfully on her hair, pulling taught at a single strand. Ah, she pondered within herself, it had been a while since she last cut it. Now, black strands had grown well past her shoulder blades, edging a little too close to her mid-back for her liking. She would ask Tao to trim it back to just below her shoulders when she returned, later when Meixiang would be sleeping so that she wouldn’t cry. The little girl, for a reason that was lost on her, always preferred that Yiran grew her hair long for her to play with, and would always make a fuss if she ever caught sight of a blade close to her older sister’s person. Yiran couldn’t help but smile fondly at memories of the girl pouting, arms folded over her tiny chest with such thick accusation in her face that she could only lift her up and smother her with raspberries until she would laugh again. Then Meixiang would move on from the betrayal, content with making do with the shorter strands until they would grow back in the following months; admittedly, she was the reason that Yiran didn’t cut it all the way to above shoulder length in the first place.

  
“A gift for someone?” The vendor asked harmlessly, at which Yiran returned his smile as her hands felt for the little rings. They were cooling against her warm fingertips.  
“For my little sister,” she nodded her confirmation, watched as the man’s expression eased into something warmer, gentle and full of endearment as he put a hand on his beard.  
“Y'know, I’ve got two kids m’self,” the man told her with a bit of boastfulness, that and the sound of fondness ever-growing in his tone and eyes lighting up with the same sentiment. “One of em’s gone off to become a soldier, the other one’s about yer age.” A sigh falls from his lips as his gaze falls somewhere beside him, distant and reminiscent in memories that Yiran wouldn’t see. “Close as thieves, them two,” he chuckled, “The lil’ one’s hell bent on goin’ off to train just like his big brother.”

  
That drew the smile on the girl’s face into something friendlier, her guard coming down as the man told her about his sons. “Real troublemakers, I tell yah,” his laughter rumbled through his chest and into the emptied market, echoing with his strength and vigour, “Coulda neva kept themselves quiet without causing a ruckus somewhere… They’ll do well to learn some discipline up with them soldiers. Speaking of, what’cha planning to do when yer big, girlie?”

  
The question pulled some sense of gravity over Yiran as she met his gaze with a sheepish grin. “Well,” she muttered, averted her gaze to the cobble stones beneath, “I want to become a scholar…” It had been her ambition ever since she’d learned about the idea back in her village, having easily become enamoured with glorified promises of more knowledge and understanding than could be contained by one person alone. But, as was the case for every endeavour that didn’t tell of raising sons and marrying young, women and girls wouldn’t even dare to dream to rise to such power. As far as their customs dictated, they would have no need to learn themselves in matters outside of childbearing and servitude, weren’t even taught to read in their own language. Her mother warned her to lock her dream away when she’d first told her in the middle of a hot summer's day, while her stomach was swollen with her second child and other wives gossiped about the chance of it being another girl. “Don’t let anyone hear you say something like that,” she said, voice hushed yet frantic, desperate, beseeching. “I mean it, Yiran — don’t mention it ever again!”

  
Another exuberant laugh from the man shocked her out of her thoughts, returned her to the present where the vendor held a hand over his large stomach. “Ambitious, aren’t yah?” His grin lacked the doubtful, judging edge that she expected, instead only bearing with it the same friendliness and light-heartedness that he boasted during their talk. “I’ll say, that’s a mighty pricey dream you have there, lassey,” he said, and Heavens, Yiran didn’t need to be reminded, had heard enough stories of young, dreamy eyed men and women who set their sights on the innermost wall, only to find themselves with a mountain of debt for their pursuit of knowledge. “Although, you’ll have plenty o’ time to rack up yer funds if you start saving now.” His eyes closed with his gentle expression as he gave her a thumbs up, his next words ringing loudly enough that it filled up the entire street.

  
“Ain’t no dream too big, kid — do what yah feel is right for you.”

  
Something swelled up in her chest with his encouragement, big and all encompassing and she smiled brightly up at this vendor. So many things were different here, she couldn’t help the thought that intruded her mind; so many opportunities and chances had all opened up to her when she fled with her mother and stepped behind Maria's inner gates. It was such a heavy contrast to the world she grew up in, and even now she finds herself breathless at the vastness of it all — a life where little girls could dream, could rise above themselves and hold their own futures.

  
This, she considers as she stands in the empty market, smiling with an old man who didn’t ridicule her for her aspirations, must be the most beautiful moment in life.  
Before she could utter words of gratitude to the vendor, something lit up the evening sky, struck straight through the purple and orange with a vibrant, dangerous yellow that was just too out of place, too sharp and piercing against gentle strokes of sunset. A loud, ringing explosion shook the jewellery stand with incredible force, threatened to turn Yiran from off her feet so that she had to grasp the edge of the wooden frame to keep her balance. A glance with the old man revealed him to be just as disoriented, just as confused by the sudden tremor, a “what in the world—” tumbling from his lips in a shaky breath before he made haste to the edge of the district. Confused and worried, Yiran followed him in short, shaky strides to where a crowd had already gathered in front of the wall, where the world still seemed to tremble in the aftershock of the explosion. A quick survey of their faces left the girl with a sinking pit in her stomach; lips drawn over their teeth in the beginnings of a scream, eyes blown wide enough that they could pop out of their skulls. A few had even begun crying, falling to their knees in something so akin to helplessness and despair that it had Yiran’s gaze following to where they were looking.

  
What she saw immediately sent her into the same crippling terror.

  
Standing over the wall was a behemoth, a monster whose face bore nothing over its muscles, the red so horrifyingly stark against the backdrop of sunset clouds and fading light. Steam rolled from its body in waves, hailing in flickers of smoke and embers that seemed to roll over the entire town, suffocated the inhabitants with a profound, absolute relentlessness. Yiran felt as if her body had been doused straight into a pit of hot water when its eyes found her own, couldn’t dare to bring herself to look away if even for the slightest moment. No thought could formulate over the pure, undiluted fear that locked her in place, no words would dare fight past the talons that gripped at her throat and crushed her very breath from her soul.

  
For the second time that day, the world stopped spinning, turned her eyes to gaze upon the cattle in condemnation and scorn as the Devil reared its great head, her smile wicked just as it is punishing. For the first time in her short, ten years of life, Yiran knew a kind of horror that surpassed even the helpless fear that she felt in her little lake village, one that easily outclassed the nightmares that chased away her dreams and ambitions.

  
This kind of fear… it was enough to cut her throat a hundred times over, rip her to shreds until she was nothing but a screaming, shivering mess.  
A loud rumble, another tremor; the first chunk of rock that was set flying, it fell on the kind vendor, squished his large body so seamlessly, splattered his insides across her face, her clothes, her hair. The first scream tore from her own lips as Shiganshina’s blanket of peace quickly dissolved into the oppressive waves of a waking nightmare.

* * *

i'll be putting this one note here since it's too long to go into the regular notes :v

ahhh first chapter's out! i originally planned to publish this story once i had at least five chapters, but i got impatient too quickly dfgh

so there are a few things i want to say now that this story is up and out. one, even though i'm writing a chinese oc, i myself have no extended knowledge of chinese culture beyond what little of the language i know. so my depiction will possibly be very off the mark. if there's anything i write in this story that seems wrong or incorrect to you, please!! correct me and let me know. the whole concept had been running around in my head but i was scared to go ahead with it but here we are. with that being said, i'm putting some trivia marks down below for certain things i have written here!

1\. Yiran, Meixiang and Tao — names: Yiran's name, in Mandarin, is written as 依然 (yīrán). Her name is a unisex form and with the characters, means "still, as before." It's pronounced "eeran" and I only realized after finishing the chapter and editing that her name sounds similar to Eren's name. Originally I'd chosen a different name for her, but I liked Yiran better and ran with it.   
Meixiang's name is written as 美香(měixiāng) and means "beautiful fragrance." As for Tao, her name in Mandarin is 桃 (táo) and means peach. Their last name is a common Chinese lastname, Lǐ 李

2\. Shuiguolian: So with my minimal knowledge of Chinese language, I created a sort of origin for the Chinese characters, an eastern country called Shuiguo, written with characters 水(shuǐ) meaning water, and 国(guó) meaning country. Hence, the entire name means "water country."

3\. The lake village: This is where the Shuiguolian people live. Within the Walls, there are several scattered villages across the plains and mountains, one of these villages being the Shuiguolians' place of dwelling. I tried to do research on how women were treated in old Chinese society, and what I learned was that their role was to basically be child bearers and obey their husbands and their families. I'm not confident on how young girls and women were married, but I'd theorize that the search began as soon as they got their first period. Yiran saw hers earlier than normal, but even then her paternal grandparents and father had already began discussing her marriage, especially since Tao was, so far, unsuccessful in bearing a son. Hearing that, Tao took both her children and fled in the middle of the night, due to her not wanting them to grow up in such an oppressive environment. In the future I'll be discussing how they ended up on the island and their role in the grand scheme of things. I have most of the important plots lined out already and I'm overall very excited to explore more with their plot!

4\. Scholars in the interior wall: What I understand from the workings of the interior is that you're born into the wealth, with very few who are able to build their fortune from the ground up. It seems that the wealthy community of Paradis is very closed off from the rest of the island. Many people try to educate themselves in the interior, but they also end up falling under massive dept that they don't ever successfully pay off, which leads them to indentured slavery or living in the underground. I have an entire concept surrounding that which I hope to further explain as the story goes on.

5\. The song that Yiran hummed in the kitchen scene: While writing this I came across a Chinese song called 山鬼 (shān guǐ) meaning "mountain spirit." A helpful comment had translated the lyrics under the video, and the story seems to be about a young female spirit who encounters a beautiful man. She waits for him at the mountain, but he never returns and she wonders if he's thinking of her and was just unable to come back to her. It seems to be a sad story, but it's one of Yiran's favourite songs from her time in her village. I'll link the video right below so that you all can listen to it if you're interested!  
Song: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldBklXZHBe4>

Again, if there is anything you guys see that looks off or incorrect, let me know through a comment or pm! I'm willing to adjust things and fix them!


	2. 02| in the eyes of the gods

“Titans are coming in!”

Even as the world around her dissolved into a pit of screaming livestock and burning walls, Yiran was unable to move from where she stood, her entire body locked up with the indescribable feeling of her heart caving in on itself in the face of what must have been the world’s end. There was a distinctive smell of fire and smoke, and something like the putrid odour of death and rot filled up her lungs, clouded her mind until she could see nothing but the face of that Red Demon as it bore down on her with its unseeing gaze. As if she'd been thrown out of her own body, she saw eons fly by in seconds as time turned into bloodied sand; the countless bodies that fell under stray boulders all turned to face her, their eyes filled up with the same fear that crippled her before they were crushed with a disturbing splatter that spun whirlwinds in her stomach and all through her being, sent chilling waves up her spine and tumbled up her throat until it all gathered up into a lone, helpless cry.

Time returned to her, fast and powerful, slammed into her with shattering force as desperate hands shoved her body backwards and, _oh,_ she was falling now — a scream tore from her lips as she was swept beneath trampling feet and the only thing registering in her mind was an undiluted kind of pain, pure in the way that it crushed her right hand and twisted her gut so that she couldn’t hold back a searing, terrified scream. Blood flowed quickly from a wound on her head and blinded her vision, her throat felt as if something had torn through the flesh there with a hot knife, ripping the skin and muscles apart with such brute force and carelessness that it left her seeing flashes of white. It hurt, everything hurt so terribly, jumbled together in an incomprehensible mess of pain and agony and _by the Mother,_ was she going to die here? Would her body be trampled under all these people before she could make something of her short life? Broken sobs pushed past her lips and blended into her cries of ache until it all became a cacophony of grief and horror, flowed from her body so that the Stranger of Death would hear her voice and take mercy. _Why, dear Stranger, did you pull us from the lion’s den only to cast us back to the Executioner? Why let us dare to dream if this is what awaited us here?_ Or perhaps, she pondered through her pain filled daze, was this punishment for defying customs? For going against the scriptures of her people? Was this what happened to bad people who disobeyed in the sight of the Seven? A crippling hopelessness turned the torment strumming under her skin into a mellowed hum, drowned it out with a feeling of loss and regret that had come over her so suddenly that it gave her whiplash. Had she not dreamed of something more, would she still be safe by the village lake? Surely the Seven-faced God would protect his faithful servants, guide them to a place where the devil couldn’t find them. Ah, somewhere in her deluded state, she chuckled, broken and despairing in the sound she let escape. They should never have left home. She should have bit into leather and told her mother that she was fine being sold off into marriage — Heavens, if she could have ever predicted what awaited them after running away, she would have gone into her marriage with her hands and legs bound and would give a son in a heartbeat.

A snide, reproachful voice called out to her amidst the cries of the dying: _your mother and sister will die because of your weakness and inability to push through._

And yet, even as her body curled in on itself beneath the reproachful eyes of the Seven Gods, something within Yiran just wasn’t ready to give away her hope. Red filled her sight, covered everything like a blanket as she pushed against the ground, fought back another scream as her right hand flared up in agony. She had to get up; there was no way everything could end like this. A sinner, she might have been by the Seven, but there was still so much she needed to do… she still had to get back home and give Meixiang the necklace she bought with Tao's gifted coins: she still had to wash her favourite grey blanket before she dug it up from the pile: she still needed to make it to the inner walls and start something of a new life: she still needed to get home to them and make sure they were alright—

Everything dulled down into a single thought that shouted against the muted screams and cries around her, drowned out the noises of fire and footsteps and sent a single bolt of urgency through her wounded body. Home, she had to get _home._

Fighting against the blinding aches and excruciating agony that rumbled throughout her bones and made her half-blind, Yiran pushed herself up using her left hand until she could stand on shaking feet, her gate unbalanced and wobbly as she forced one leg in front of the other. The single word flashed again in her mind, pushed desperately through her red vision until it was all she could think of, took her mind away from the death and smoke around her and gathered it all into a lonely prayer. _Home,_ it shoved her past the screaming woman who knelt before a boulder, what remained of her child painting the grey stone in red; _home_ dragged her past the throngs of bodies desperate to get away from the gaping hole in the wall. Tao was still _home_ with Meixiang, was the house still standing? Had they escaped by now? They had to be alright, they had to be safe, _they just had to be._ Her limping body pushed itself faster despite the blood in her eyes and the white-hot pain that threatened to turn her inside out; her _home_ had to be in one piece.

_Please, hear this sinner’s prayer one more time… please let my family make it out of this alive._

“Yiran!”

It was Tao. Her voice sent a wave of relief crashing down on her aching body, her lips quivering with a fresh set of cries as she could just barely make out the woman’s silhouette through the curtain of red that covered her eyes. The woman’s hair had fallen out of its neat ponytail, still dressed in her work clothes as she cradled Meixiang's body on her way down the hill. They didn’t seem to be injured from what Yiran could see, the reason for her little sister’s crying must have been sake of the fear and confusion she felt. A misplaced chuckle bubbled around the confines of her neck, Yiran herself felt like crying with her. “Mama,” she wheezed against the pain in her chest, the sound dragging little blades across her flesh on its way out. Thank Heavens, she briefly glanced up to the evening sky in a show of reverence and gratefulness; they were safe. An anxious smile set on her lips as she stood hunched over, black hair sticking uncomfortably to her face and blood staining her tongue with its metallic taste. She must look like absolute hell, she belatedly considered, but she could fret over her injuries when they were safely behind the inner gate. They just had to hurry before anything could catch them; the house was considerably far from the second gate, but if they ran fast enough, they could make it. She just needed to bear the pain for a little longer and then they could have that nice Doctor Jaeger patch up her injuries. She assured herself that everything would be fine, everything will be all right. The Seven haven’t abandoned them yet, surely. Her and Tao and Meixiang, the three of them will make it out alive.

The loud, rumbling noises came down on her like a hammer, destroyed her prayers with cold, merciless laughter.

She watched, horrified as Tao’s head swung to look behind her at the disturbingly human-like face of a Titan, saw the beast lock its eyes down on the woman and her baby as it made big, lumbering steps in their direction. The drunken words of Garrison soldiers couldn’t do the monster’s appearance any justice, didn’t even begin to compare to the abominable fear that the sight of one inspired. What she saw was not the bumbling gremlin that clawed mindlessly at Wall Maria with beady eyes and a stupid grin. Here was the Devil come up from the Seventh Hell, the gateway to eternal damnation a gaping pit behind its hanging jaws and eyes filled with promises of loss and hurt, deeper than any pain Yiran could ever imagine in her short life. This was not a harmless beast that wandered across the Great Grass Plains, but a servant of The Stranger who walked with the Grim Reaper in its shadow and the Scythe hanging from its drooling tongue. Here, she realized with the harsh flavours of misery and defeat in her mouth, she could very well be swallowed by the Archangel of Darkness, swept up behind those heavy gates and banished to a place far away where she would never dare to dream of daylight and happiness. Standing before her with its mouth hanging open was the End of the World.

Like a cruel joke, sneering in familiar tones and childish laughter, Yiran heard Meixiang's joyful cries from earlier that day dissolve into a shriek so filled with unsullied fear that it gripped her bruising body and twisted her until she could no longer recognize anything beyond viscous, barbaric agony.

_“Giant! Giant!”_

“Run…” the word was hushed, compressed by the mountain of pain that sat on her chest as tears sprung into her eyes and mixed with the blood there. Desperately, she took a deep breath, screamed at the top of her lungs so that it echoed across the abandoned houses, over the pounding of the Titan’s feet and the scattered cries of the dying.

_“Run!”_

Tao clutched Meixiang’s body closer to her as she stumbled down the steeping slope with gasping, shaking breaths that fought their way down her throat. Her heart lodged itself somewhere there and made it hard for air to pass through, but she couldn’t allow herself to worry too much on her inability to swallow air because the Titan was _right there_ behind her, drawing closer with each second that passed by her like molten sugar. Oh, Seven Heavens, its footsteps were so loud, they shook the very earth, rang louder than the screams of the forsaken and shook her down to her very core, but Yiran was just up ahead, bloodied and broken and crying for her to run faster; run, run— “Come on, mama please hurry, _run_ —” Gods, she realized with a sinking fear, her tongue turned heavy with the feeling and eyes burned with hopeless tears; she wouldn’t make it in time. Her heart locked itself up and wouldn’t move even to the sound of death's drums, and she knew there was no way that she could make it to her older daughter’s side in time before the Titan caught her. _We’re going to die,_ the single thought was so loud, overpowered her senses and threw her off balance, sent her tumbling to the ground as the world itself spun on its side like a broken tap toy.

“Mama!”

Yiran was running before she could think, her lone good hand reaching for her mother and sister as their bodies rolled down the slope in pathetic heaps. _Gods, please get up, please, please move or else we’re going to die—_ The giant’s haunting face loomed over the three of them just as she reached her crying sister, its gaping mouth dripping with something wet and slimy that fell down on top of her head and mixed with her blood. Its breath stunk so much of flesh and death like a slaughterhouse that Yiran was choking on the putrid smell, her body trembling with nausea and sickness as she held Meixiang to her chest, reached for her mother’s outstretched hand with her aching right limb. _Just get back on your feet and we can run away,_ the promise didn’t make it past her lips as her eyes finally met her mother’s, and in those few seconds, time took a breath, slowed the flow of life around them and turned it all into thick, dark molasses. Panic and terror made endless pools of obsidian eyes as Tao's lips hung with a broken plea. Reality blurred into years of laughter and tears, smiles shared in red dresses and pain filled harmonies sung at the witching hours of the night; as she pushed her daughter’s outstretched hand away in a desperate last attempt, as the large, bruising grip of the Devil's Angel wrapped around her body, Li Tao smiled through her final prayer.

“Run…”

Yiran’s mouth hung open in an unheeded scream, her voice breaking around the hurting flesh as she watched her mother’s body get swept up in the giant’s hands, her lips wearing the very same smile, familiar and warm, now filled with her last wish for her daughters to escape as tears rolled down her young face. Without thinking, her right hand moved to shove Meixiang's face into her chest, to turn her away from the sight even as the girl struggled and fussed, shrieking for “Mama, mama, let mama go—” Even as she held her little sister close, Yiran couldn’t bring herself to look away from Tao's eyes, kept crying out for the woman to jump, to kick, to do _something_ as the beast brought her head between its gaping jaw. _“Mama!!”_ The anguished cry drowned under the noise of bones crushing, blood bursting like a sick parody of a plastic bag filled with water; Tao's head was squeezed between rows of large teeth, her smile turning into the horrifying picture of flesh and muscles spilling into an open mouth.

A sharp ringing sound filled her head over Meixiang's crying, over the disgusting sounds of her mother’s body being devoured as she watched the Titan pick apart her arms, her legs, dug its fingers into her torso to slurp out her insides. _“Run…”_ was Tao's last word. It pushed through the ringing in Yiran’s mind in something of a hushed urge that had her turning her back on the grotesque scenery and back down the rest of the mountain, through the now deserted marketplace, past the overturned jewellery stand and past the countless bodies crushed under pieces of the Wall. _Run,_ it pushed her past the crowd of restless people gathered around the Inner Gate, drove her into carelessly shoving her way past their tightly pressed bodies while still shielding Meixiang to her chest. _Run,_ it echoed still in her mind as she pushed herself into the body of a Garrison soldier, a blond man who rounded on her sharply before reeling at the sight of her, bleeding and broken with a young baby in her arms. He must have felt bad, taken pity on the pair of them, because he didn’t say a word as he guided them through the next crowd of panicking civilians who waited to get on the boat. He lead them all the way to the front line of the crowd and muttered something to the guards there before they ushered her across the wooden platform and into the pool of despairing men, women and children gathered together like sardines.

_Run,_ the word dulled under Meixiang’s wails, the girl clutching on tightly to Yiran’s shirt as she sat with her back pressed against wood, her cries ringing so loudly with the pain of loss and agony, as if somehow she knew that their mother would never be coming back to them, as if the very ache that Yiran felt had pushed through into the little girl’s soul and twisted its rusting blade in her little chest. Helplessly, Yiran buried her face into Meixiang’s body, their voices rose together to join the chorus of broken souls and wailing melodies as the image of Tao's body being torn apart and mangled replayed in her mind; the sound of her blood dripping down steaming flesh and splattering unto the concrete below like a wicked soundtrack that would haunt her throughout the day and chase sleep away at night.

_Run…_

* * *

The world waited for no one, wouldn’t stop for those who suffered, wouldn’t bat an eye at the ones who ached and bled on her soil. Yiran had always known that simple law, had learned it as early as she’d learned how to walk — _“She never stops, she’ll move away from you and leave you stranded in cold lands”_ — and yet as she was faced with the reality here, alone in a sea of broken souls and withering bodies, she wished within her heart that the cruel world would look back and hurt for her frosting spirit, that the Gods in their golden thrones would take pity on her for once and grant her mercy from hellish ice fields.

The cold air of the Utopia district bit through her bare skin, turned pale cheeks into wilting blue flowers as she sat curled against a far corner of the refugee house. Atop her pitiful bundle of hay, Yiran worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she wrapped Meixiang’s body with the one blanket they were given to share, violently shivering as she went without the minimal heat it brought and instead focused on pressing her younger sister’s sleeping form closer to her chest to keep her smaller body warm. Her breaths left chapped lips in white clouds when they fell and her teeth clattered terribly with every shudder that wrecked her form. Her stomach cramped painfully with the day’s hunger and she was forced to choke down her cry, bit down on her lip with enough force to draw blood from the cracks in her skin. The bitter, metallic taste coated her tongue in little droplets that she forced herself to swallow, groaning as it burned her dry throat on its way down. _This is hell,_ the thought swam around her mind in a daze, a faint brush of the dark fog that hung over her being and asphyxiated her with toxic metals and burning gasses. The legends of her lake village, all the songs and haunting tales had always warned that hell burned hot with green flames that melted the skin from sinners’ face, tore screams from their dry throats so that they would echo above grey clouds like the rumbling of thunder. The people who wrote those songs must not have known, Yiran wondered morbidly, bitter and resentful; they must not have been felt the harsh winds that spread over this bleak wasteland, where ice cut through skin and red blood turned to blue stone.

A week had passed since she and Meixiang were both sent to dwell in Wall Rose's northernmost district; seven and some miserable, wretched days spent in the freezing temperatures of the departing winter, with no warmth save for what little heat they could stave from the people curled up around them. Food was scarce, stretched so far and between that many refugees have passed their time with nothing but icy water to fill their stomach, a handful of crumbs from stale bread for the few that were fortunate enough. Every night, wails cut through the howling of the winds, every night, someone cried for the fear of giant demons who sought their blood; broke down into choking sobs for the mother or father, sibling or friend that was lost on the day of the attack. No one ever complained, no one would dare speak up against the ones who wept. After all, they were all suffering the same fate — they were all the unfortunate survivors, the ones who saw the faces of demons and revisited memories of fire and blood. Not one soul would dare persecute the ones who lost themselves in their time of vulnerability, not when they were all hanging on by a single, worn thread.

Meixiang’s body still trembled in her arms, her face twisting with the bad dream of Shiganshina’s spring evening. That night, she’d gone without crying, though it was still a battle to put her to sleep before the midnight hour. The young thing, Yiran could imagine the kind of visions that tore through her mind, the ones that cast her atop the slopping tongues of monsters and crushed her beneath yellowing teeth; the ones where their mother vanished beneath a gaping black hole, gone to a place far away, from where she could never return. The very same dreams were the ones that kept Yiran from closing her eyes, only that instead of the black pit, she saw the Titan’s wide mouth, felt shower of saliva that dripped on her skin, watched Tao’s smile morph into a mess of skin, flesh and bone, blood and muscles crushed under the weight of the Devil’s jaws. The same sight, over and over, playing like a broken record that pushed her to the brink of insanity, taunted her with its red flowers and laughs that sounded like crushing bones. The one that sent her heart down to her toes, back up to her throat where she could choke on her screams and drown in the blood that rained down from the sky. It left her here, eyes wide and brimming in tears as she curled into herself and held Meixiang tighter, fought back her own cries so that they wouldn’t echo across cold walls.

She wished, somewhere inside her aching heart, that she would wake up from an awful nightmare; that her eyes would open under the sun’s gentle rays and she’d find herself back in Shiganshina, back inside their little bedroom and wrapped up with their thin sheets. She wished that her mother would still be there, smiling as she held Meixiang in her arms and humming one of the songs that she used to sing to Yiran when she was younger, melodies of mountain ghosts and drunken moons that they sang together in the dead of the night. She wished to feel safe again, to be ignorant and unaware of sorrow so great, so terrible like a noose around her neck that strung her from the walls and robbed her of breath. Under the covers of darkness where the moon couldn’t reach her, a sob broke from her lips and echoed out inside the quiet shelter like a gunshot ricocheting from the concrete walls. She wished with her shattered soul, prayed with everything she had to offer, that this evil dream would disappear and for it to vanish to someplace far away and never return to her.

But the Gods were merciless and uncaring, indifferent to the pains of the mortals who worshipped them; what were they to feel for the girl who cursed their names and turned to them her back? What were they to say for the sinner who abandoned the teaching of her elders and dared to aspire for a life greater than the one that was bestowed upon her?

A bitterness, earnest and profound in its scorching flames, welled up inside her stomach like fire as she struggled to keep her cries locked behind her lips. Within that dark shelter, as the blades of the northern cold tore through her skin and rattled her bones, sank its fangs into her entire being, Yiran damned those devilish Gods with her poisoned tongue, her teeth the sharp daggers that drew black blood from their names. Her very heart sang with righteous fury and unabated anger and her spirit cried out in defiance against her judgement. What evil had she done by wishing for a better life? What sin had she and her mother committed that warranted such a damning punishment, that Tao had to die by the Stranger’s scythe, that her children were to be cast aside by the world and left to rot and starve? Between crushing waves of hurt and rage, there was a feeling of loss, of a bleak despair that threatened to pull her under its current. Her eyes, glistening with tears that flowed like torrential rivers, searched around the darkness for what, she couldn’t say. Perhaps a sign of something, a message, _anything_ that would take her pains away, anything that could drag her out of this freezing pit and return her to Tao’s arms. Maybe she was searching for something that would tell her what to do next, what was expected of her now that she’d been uprooted from a peaceful daydream and cast into a freezing hell.

Her teary gaze fell down to Meixiang, her young face turning and scrunched up with tears glistening on her lashes; despite the extra care that Yiran took to wrap her up in blankets and hold her close to her body, the little girl’s skin was still cold to the touch. What little food they’d managed to grab earlier that day had all gone to Meixiang, and even then, the small piece of bread wasn’t enough to keep her full, could only hold off the pains of hunger for a few hours at best. They wouldn’t be able to survive in conditions like this, Yiran was certain. More than fifteen refugees had already died that week from either the cold weather, the lack of proper food and water, or from stress alone; their bodies would collapse as they were moving from one place to the next while others passed away quietly, curled up against themselves or within the arms of someone who would mourn their deaths. _I don’t want us to be next,_ she bit her tongue as the thought flashed in her mind; _I don’t want us to die here in this place where no one will cry for us._ She made up her mind on that cold night in Utopia, where the north still suffered the departing winter’s winds and the land had yet to thaw from February’s snow. Here in this merciless world, she would fight, would claw tooth and nail against the barricade cast against her by fate, would kick and scream and tear through flesh because they _had to live._ For Meixiang’s sake, she swore. She would sell her soul if that was what it came down to it, wouldn’t dare think twice if it meant that they could have a fighting chance in the face of hell’s fire. For Meixiang, she couldn’t give up here. _I’ll find away for us to survive. For your sake, I’ll fight._

Her promise rang against howling winds like a silent chime, vanished on its currents for the Gods to hear her vow. If they wouldn’t heed her pleas, then she’d sell her soul to the Devil instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like, literally nobody's reading this but hi! :D hopefully things will pick up soon but for now i'm publishing this chapter. i was planning until i got more reads until updating and then just keep writing chapters without uploading them until then but i really wanted to put this out, so maybe i'll wait around after i put this one up. in the meantime i'm gonna start writing my haikyuu fic and keep myself busy with the two of these fics. 
> 
> honestly this chapter was a little harder for me two write, especially the last half because it was supposed to be longer, but the rest of it just felt so unnatural to put in with the rest of everything that i had to send it over to a new chapter. i had like 7 different paths to go with for after the fall of shiganshina and tao's death was written, but i decided to go with the utopia route since it was the easiest for me to write and to still have things make sense. so i just— slapped it on and ran with it? anyways, here are some more notes for anything you guys might not understand or are confused by!
> 
> 1\. The Seven-Faced God/The Stranger + The Mother: so throughout this fic I suddenly had the idea to borrow a few concepts from Game of Thrones and implement them in my writing, one of those concepts being the Seven-Faced God. In got, these gods are referred to "the new gods" and are mainly worshiped by the southern people. In this fic, they are the gods of the Shuiguolians. The Mother represents mercy, peace, fertility, and childbirth, and she's referenced in this fic as the aspect of the god that is supposed to protect and show forgiveness unto the faithful. The Stranger is the part of the god that respects death and the unknown. I wanted to portray him a bit like the Grim Reaper? In the sense that he comes to the door and takes you away or something like that!
> 
> 2\. Utopia: In canon, Utopia is the northernmost territory of Wall Rose and it's where Annie was held after she crystallized herself. It's supposed to be a reference-but-not-really-a-reference to the North in got, and I'll try and explore that more in depth as the fic goes on. The main similarity right now is that it is the coldest region on the island and supposedly doesn't see a lot of warm days. As the plot moves forward, this fact will be important in how it not only affects Yiran and Meixiang, but also the refugees and the locals who live there.
> 
> as always, if there's anything you all feel unhappy about, please be sure to let me know either by comments or direct messages! thank you if you're reading this! <3


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